


Breakfast on the Stairs

by motherofmercury



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Fluffy, Healer Scorpius, M/M, Married Scorbus, Muggle Cooking, Promotions, Soft Husbands, Some angst, St. Mungo's, Suggested Sex, albus likes living like a muggle, albus looks after scorpius, breakfast on the stairs, but he'll be a wizard for scorp, domestic scorbus, march 2027 to may 2029, medi-magical researcher scorpius, not even angst between the characters tbh, not-so-skinny-albus, primary teacher albus, rants against prejudice, scorpius always forgets his keys, scorpius is always late, scorpius is just plain weird, scorpius needs to look after himself better, sheer bathrobes, snippets of their lives, snogging on the stairs, so much love, soft, stairs are very important, stairs hold memories, they christen the stairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 17:24:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17871584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherofmercury/pseuds/motherofmercury
Summary: The early years of Albus and Scorpius' marriage plays out on the stairs of a certain apartment building.  Together they face prejudiced employers, extreme exhaustion, boundless love, much-deserved promotions, never remembering their keys, and breakfast; all on those same stairs.





	Breakfast on the Stairs

**_March 2027_ **

This wasn’t the first time Scorpius had forgotten his keys because he was late for a shift at St. Mungo’s.  And it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d not realised until he was outside the door of his flat, unable to get in. 

        Scorpius was frequently rostered on the night shifts; mostly – Albus, his best mate and husband of one year, liked to speculate – because his last name was Malfoy.  Al’s passionate rants against prejudice were sometimes the only things that could make Scorpius smile after a long night of cleaning out bedpans.  Today, however, he’d been rostered on the five a.m. to two p.m. shift.

        He slumped against the wall in defeat, not for the first time regretting his and Al’s decision to put up wards that prevented anyone (including them) from getting into their shared flat through magical means.  It was a muggle building, so they wanted to use muggle keys.  It would have been perfect if Scorpius weren’t so damn forgetful.  He allowed himself to slide down the wall until he was sitting on the top step, arms around his knees.

        Scorpius would just wait for Albus to come home from work in a few hours.  Albus worked at the local Muggle primary school where a lot of Wizarding families sent their children before they were old enough to attend Hogwarts.  Albus was an expert at covering for children who had performed accidental magic at school.  Many of them were sent to the principal’s office completely unable to explain what had happened.  This also meant Albus had created a good standing for himself among the parents of the magical children; it really did help having someone there who truly knew what was going on.

        Scorpius let out a resigned sigh and closed his eyes, leaning his back against the wall and settling in to wait for his husband.

        “Scorpius?” The slightly perplexed voice floated up the stairs to him, propelling him out of his light doze and back into reality.

        He groaned at the crick in his neck and stood up to meet Albus at the top of the stairs.  He looked at his beautiful husband with his big, sad, blue-grey eyes and forlornly stated; “I forgot my keys again.”

        Albus chuckled and affectionately bumped his shoulder into Scorpius’, careful not to disturb the teetering pile of workbooks he held stacked in his arms.

        “Can you hold these for me?” Albus offered the books to Scorpius who pulled out his wand and cast a quick levitating spell.

        “Honestly, Albus,” he watched the shorter man dig through his pockets for the keys, pulling out lint and sweet wrappers and even a few slightly crumpled drawings from children in his classes.  “Why do you insist on carrying these like a muggle when it is a million times easier to avoid the manual labour?”

        “Scorp, you know I enjoy living like a muggle,” Albus rolled his eyes fondly over his shoulder.  He finally pulled the keys from the depths of this jacket pocket, jangling them victoriously.  He slotted the correct key into the lock.

        “It just seems so inefficient,” Scorpius followed Albus into their flat and locked the door behind them, levitating the workbooks in front of him.

        “Thank you, Love,” Albus plucked the stack from the air and deposited them on the kitchen bench.  He turned back around and made a beeline for Scorpius who was finally removing his healer robes to reveal the plain shirt and trousers underneath.

        Albus wrapped his arms around Scorpius’ waist as the taller man let his robes slide to the ground in a sickly green puddle, bringing his own arms up to wrap around Albus’ neck.

        “I missed you,” Scorpius mumbled into Albus’ hair, inhaling the sharp tang of sweat and craft glue.

        Albus chuckled affectionately, nuzzling into Scorpius’ shoulder gently, “I saw you this morning.”

        “But I never see you for long enough.”

        “At least neither of us have to work tonight,” Albus’ voice grew husky.  He leaned back slightly and lowered his hands to cup Scorpius’ hips possessively.

        Scorpius gazed into Albus’ startling green eyes for a moment before entwining his fingers in Albus’ already messy, dark hair and pressing his lips to the other man’s.

        “Mmm,” Albus moaned into Scorpius’ mouth, bringing his hands around to grip Scorpius’ arse and pull their bodies closer.

        “Bedroom,” Scorpius mumbled into Albus’ mouth.

        “Mmph,” there was the pop of disapparation and then they were lying on their bed, bodies still entwined.

        Scorpius pulled away from Albus and rolled on top of him expertly.  He playfully nipped at Albus’ bottom lip.  “Show off,” he accused, “living like a muggle, huh?”

        “It’s more efficient,” Albus said cheekily. 

        He grabbed Scorpius by his shirt-front and yanked him down for another kiss.

        “Tosser,” Scorpius breathed as he threw his head back so Albus could expertly trail hot kisses down the length of his pale neck.

 

**_June 2028_ **

        “Albus! Hello! I’m sorry, I’m running late again-”

        Albus snaked out his free hand to grab Scorpius’ collar and pull him in for a quick hello/goodbye kiss.  He pulled away and untwisted the strap of Scorpius’ bag, surveying his husband before letting him go.

        “Have you got your keys?”

        “My keys? Oh! My keys! Yes?” Scorpius frantically patted down his pockets, but came up empty, “where did I leave them?” He spun around and re-entered their flat in a flurry of sickly green Healer robes.

        “They’re in the kitchen pot plant!” Albus called after him, maneuvering his usual stack of workbooks into one arm and adjusting his grip on the sandwich he’d just bought.

        “Found them!” came Scorpius’ yell.

        Albus had no idea how the keys had ended up in the pot plant in the kitchen, but he’d given up on questioning the weird things Scorpius did every day; for example: putting milk in his bowl before the cereal.  Why?!

        Scorpius came zooming out of the door once more, this time with keys in hand.  He planted one more quick kiss on Albus’ lips as the shorter man made his way into their flat.  Albus shoved the bought sandwich into Scorpius’ hands, reminding him to eat something, and then Scorpius was off down the stairs to their approved apparation point with lightning speed.

        “I LOVE YOU!” Albus yelled down the stairs after him, smiling fondly at his crazy husband’s antics.

        “I LOVE YOU TOO!” Came the cry just before the door to their building clunked shut behind Scorpius.

        Albus sighed and shut the door to their flat, putting on the kettle and settling down to a long night of marking.  He didn’t sleep well without Scorpius’ warmth in their bed beside him. 

        It wasn’t very often that he slept well at all, these days.

 

**_October 2028_ **

        Early on a Saturday morning – ungodly early, really – Scorpius stumbled up the stairs of their building, exhaustion making his vision fuzzy and messing with his balance.   He’d been called in for an emergency shift the afternoon before.  Scorpius had been on his feet for almost thirteen hours straight with only a minute here or there to shut his eyes or grab something from the cafeteria.  He had prioritised sleep over food and it was taking its toll. 

        He tripped up the last step and fell to the ground, hard, sharply sucking in his breath and catching the edge of the step with his elbow.  That was going to bruise.  Scorpius squeezed his eyes shut for a moment in an attempt to stop the world from spinning and crawled up onto the landing.  He reached out for their door – thankfully the first one by the stairs – and knocked as hard as he could from his position on the floor.  Even if he’d had the energy to look through his bag and his pockets for the keys, it was more likely than not that he’d left them somewhere in the flat.  Especially since he’d been in such a rush the day before.

        Scorpius slumped back against the wall on the top step and closed his eyes, brow furrowed from the headache he could feel the beginnings of.  He heard the soft creak that their door made when it opened, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes.  Why did this exhaustion feel like he was experiencing the worst hangover of his life?  Was he just  _that_  dehydrated?

        “Scorpius?” Albus voice was husky from sleep and when Scorpius finally opened his eyes, he saw Albus rubbing sleep from his own.

        His husband was shirtless and his hair was even more tousled than usual.  Albus had rounded out and softened at the edges in the few years they’d been married, but truth-be-told, Scorpius rather preferred him this way; his arse was deliciously round when he sat on Scorp’s lap and even just thinking about Albus’ arse had the blood pooling in Scorpius’ groin.  Even the children Albus worked with now said that Mr Malfoy-Potter hugs were the  _best_  hugs; Scorpius was very inclined to agree. 

        The confusion on his husband’s face would have been adorable if Scorpius hadn’t been ready to pass out right there on the stairs.

        “Scorp!” Albus looked down and the fear in his eyes cut right through Scorpius’ heart.  Surely he didn’t look that bad?  “Don’t move.”

        Not that he thought he could.

        Albus returned with his wand and a glass of water, helping Scorpius to sit up properly and hold the latter.

        “When was the last time you ate?”

        Scorpius gave a feeble shrug, “I didn’t have time.” He muttered. 

        He hated the pain in Albus’ voice when his husband said, “you can’t keep doing this, Scorp! How will you heal people if you keep making yourself sick?!” He slumped down next to Scorpius and took his free hand in both of his.  “I can’t lose you.”

        Scorpius leaned into Albus and let the other man pull him almost into his lap.  He nuzzled into Albus’ bare shoulder, inhaling the scent he’d been craving for thirteen hours.

        “I’m going to quit.”

        “What?” Albus winced at the hope he heard in his own voice.

        “I’ll just stay here and be your house husband,” he said into Albus’ shoulder.  “Merlin knows we have enough money between us and my father.”

        Albus pulled away slightly so he could look at Scorpius’ face.  He gently stroked Scorp’s cheek with the hand that wasn’t holding him tightly against his chest.  “You don’t mean that. You love your job. Healing people and researching new techniques is all you ever wanted to do.”

        “You said it yourself. I can’t keep doing this.”

        “No,  _they_  can’t keep giving you the graveyard shifts and not letting you have decent breaks! It has to be illegal what they’re doing to you! I’m going to talk to Aunt Hermione, she’ll be able to help you, and I don’t  _care_  what people think about the Minister interfering with St. Mungo’s shifts, they’re slowly killing you, Scorpius! How can they not see what a sweet and genuine person you are? How could they think you wouldn’t be a good Healer because of a stupid family name?!”  Albus’ voice was rising with each addition to his rant, but he couldn’t help himself; Scorpius meant the world to him and he just couldn’t see why no one else could see Scorp for what he really was.

        “Albus,” Scorpius said quietly, taking Albus’ hand between both of his and rubbing small circles into his palm.  Scorpius had always loved Albus’ hands – always covered in glue or paint from working with the children, the nails a little dirty, the lines getting slightly deeper and clearer each year – but despite the small changes, they remained constant.  And that was comforting.  “Many patients don’t want to be tended by a Malfoy. It’s better if I’m on shifts when the patients are mostly asleep.”

        “But you’re not a Malfoy!” Albus spat vehemently.

        That made Scorpius smile softly.  “No, I’m a Malfoy-Potter. But not even adding  _your_  name takes away the connotations of  _my_  name.”

        “I want  _our_  name to mean something different, Scorp. I want people to hear the name ‘Malfoy-Potter’ and think of the good things we’ve done. The children I’ve helped, the medi-magical research you’ve done. We’ve done good stuff, Scorp, why does no one see that?”

        Scorpius reached up and wiped away the tears gathering in the corners of Albus’ eyes.  He hated seeing Albus cry.  Albus was the strong one; Scorpius was the one who burst into tears at the smallest thing. 

        “Because to them, the facts of the past are more important than the possibilities of the future.” 

        Scorpius put his fingers under Albus’ chin and gently pulled him closer so he could press his lips to his husband’s.  He could taste the salt of Albus’ tears and the heat of his body pressed against his own.  Albus’ lips were soft and slightly puffy from sleep against Scorpius’ chapped ones. 

        “It will be okay,” Scorpius whispered against Albus’ lips.  “It will all work out.”

        “I sure hope so.” Albus kissed Scorpius again; tender and loving.  “If not; you’d make a fantastic house husband.”

        Scorpius could feel Albus’ smile against his lips and he smiled too.  It would all be okay.  As long as he had Albus, everything would be okay.

        “Come on,” Albus hauled Scorpius to his feet, holding him securely so he wouldn’t sway and fall over.  “Let’s get some breakfast into you, and then you need to sleep.”

 

**_February 2029_ **

        For once, Scorpius met Albus on the stairs as they both came home from work.  Scorpius slipped his hand into Albus’ and swung it merrily as they walked up together.

        “Someone’s in a good mood,” Albus chuckled fondly, gently squeezing Scorpius’ hand.

        “Guess what?!” Scorpius swung their hands even higher.  He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.

        “What?” Albus couldn’t help but grin back.  It was so rare to see his husband so beautifully happy when he came home from work.  Albus was going to treasure this moment and make it last as long as he could.

        “No, you have to guess!”

        “You figured out how to train our kneazle?”

        “Nope!”

        “Dad let you adopt one of Mum’s pygmy puffs?”

        “Nopity nope!”

        “Hmmm,” Albus scrunched up his face and pretended to think very hard.  Suddenly he stopped walking and pulled Scorpius towards him conspiratorially.  “Draco finally caved and bought you a baby dragon?” He whispered, eyes wide in mock surprise.

        “No,” Scorpius laughed, and to Albus, it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

        He smiled fondly at Scorpius, and Merlin did he know he must have looked like a dope, but he was just so in love with this man.  “Go on then, tell me what.”

        Scorpius bit his lip, but he couldn’t contain his excitement.  “I’ve been transferred to the medi-magical research department!” He couldn’t help it, he let out a little squeal of glee.  “I won’t have to deal with patients who despise my name, I’ll have regular working hours so I can see you more, and I’ll only be on call for emergencies!” Scorpius was jumping up and down on the spot, both of Albus’ hands in his.

        “Scorp, that’s brilliant! The research is what you wanted to do in the first place, right?”

        “Yes! And this is like, sort of a promotion too because I get a pay raise!”

        Albus pulled him into a fierce hug.  “I’m so happy for you.”

        “You told me everything would be okay, and you were right.” Scorpius pulled back so he could look Albus in the eye to convey the depth of his gratitude and boundless love for him.  He knew his words could never convey that much emotion.

        Albus was looking at Scorpius with that face that meant  _I want to push you up against this wall and snog you senseless_ , so Scorpius took the initiative and pressed his lips to Albus’ with all the searing heat of his passion.

        “I love you so much,” Albus mumbled against Scorpius’ lips.

        Scorpius pushed him back against the wall and managed an “I love you, too,” before Albus’ tongue was in his mouth and their hips were grinding together and the only coherent thought he had was he really hoped they didn’t fall down these stairs.

 

**_May 2029_ **

        The sun was shining in the window of their new house on Saturday morning and Albus groaned as the bright light struck his face.  He felt Scorpius roll over beside him, tucking Albus’ frame into his own.  He brought his arms up to wrap over Scorpius’ where they circled his chest.

        “Good morning,” Scorpius whispered against the back of his neck.

        Scorpius’ hot breath made Albus shiver and he thought perhaps mornings weren’t so bad if he could always wake up to this.  It was a rare occasion if Scorpius was awake before Albus.  Albus had to leave quite early for work on weekdays, often leaving Scorpius still asleep, but thankfully they both finished work at relatively the same time.  They had a lot more time they could spend together these days and it was infinitely better than the sparse moments of affection at the beginning of their marriage.  Of course, neither of them was to blame; Scorpius’ job had been extremely demanding.

        The sound of Scorpius’ stomach gurgling broke Albus out of his thoughts. 

        “Mmm, what’s for breakfast?”

        Albus let out a snort of amusement, “whatever you make.”

        Albus could feel Scorpius pouting against the back of his neck, “but you’re the one who can like, actually cook good things.”

        “Yeah, you managed to burn those muggle two-minute noodles. How? I will never know.”

        Scorpius groaned at the memory, hiding his face in the back of Albus’ neck; Albus just laughed heartily at him.

        “Okay,” Albus slid out of Scorpius’ arms with reluctance, “I’ll make something, but you’re on dishes.”

        “Sir, yes Sir!” Scorpius almost growled as Albus pulled on the sheer dressing-gown his cousin, Rose, had bought them partially as a joke, but had quickly become a bedroom favourite of the couple.  “You can’t put that on and expect me to watch you walk away!” Scorpius protested.

        Albus pulled the robe tight around his body and threw a lascivious wink over his shoulder at Scorpius, well aware that his arse was wonderfully displayed through the transparent, Slytherin-green fabric.  He let out a loud laugh at the moan that followed him out of the bedroom.

        He pottered around their kitchen, turning on the stove, putting some bread in the muggle toaster and searching their muggle fridge for some eggs.  Albus had to admit that those muggles sure knew how to make things easier for themselves with their teck-no-logy.  And food cooked the muggle way just tasted so much better.  So, naturally he’d made it a point to learn how to cook properly when Scorpius received his promotion, seeing as the two of them would actually be together for dinners, and sometimes breakfast.  Albus did not think two-minute noodles and canned soup would cut it for very long.  Not to mention they were hardly romantic meals.

        Scorpius appeared a few minutes later, wearing his own – considerably less suggestive – dressing-gown.  He came up behind Albus while he was at the stove and wrapped his arms around the slightly shorter man’s waist.  Scorpius placed a kiss on Albus’ cheek and playfully swatted his arse before proceeding to pull two plates out of the cupboard.

        Once breakfast was appropriately plated up, they grabbed a plate each and Scorpius entwined his fingers with Albus’, leading him out onto the steps of their very own front porch.

        The sunlight bathed the front garden in a golden glow, the bright orb already quite high in the sky.  The wooden steps were sun-warmed and the air was pleasantly crisp.

        “You know,” Scorpius began, swallowing a mouthful of eggs, “our relationship kind of happened on the stairs of that apartment building.”

        Albus laughed softly, “I think you’re right. The only times I managed to see you were on the stairs.” He leaned into Scorpius’ side gently, “all the things those stairs have seen,” it was almost wistful.

        Scorpius knew Albus meant it in a sappy kind of way, but he couldn’t help but snort. “Yeah, there were a lot of times you pretty much shagged me right there on those-”

        “Okay! Okay, but you get the point?”

        “Of course I get the point.” He playfully banged his shoulder into Albus’.  “But now we have a new set of stairs to make memories on.”  Scorpius leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Albus’ warm lips.

        “I think they need christening,” Albus’ voice was low as put his plate aside.  He kissed Scorpius back, leaning on his arms and pushing the other man backwards until he was lying on the steps.

        Scorpius smirked against Albus’ lips, his back pressing into the hard wood, but he didn’t care.  “I quite agree. Breakfast on the stairs.” His voice was sultry.

        Albus’ laughter was lost in Scorpius’ kiss as the sun smiled down on them as if she were blessing their stairs, and in turn, blessing them.  Stairs hold the ghost of many moments, but none were so lucky as these; haunted forever by a love as eternal as theirs.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write something in this style (just snippets of their lives) for the longest time! Please let me know if I did okay, or if it's horrible and I should never attempt this again hahah I hope you enjoyed it! xx


End file.
